Food truck at Boston Festival

Food trucks are big news in the culinary world. Food cultists may think New York, LA, or even lately  Boston, have the trend covered. But last week, I stopped by the sparlingly clean truck parked in a shopping center lot in Dodge City, Kan. It’s there every day, and has been for years, selling tacos, tortas, and a few other specialties. No monster burritos, no orange cheese, no Americanized fast-food tcochkes.

The temperature was about 96 at 7 p.m. as I went up to the window. A teenager took my order for three tacos — al pastor, barbacoa and lengua. And, yes, they had tongue, he said, a little confused that I had to ask. “Do you want everything on it,” he inquired. That turned out to be onions and cilantro. Then he told me he’d bring it to me in the car. In Kansas, people seldom emerge from their cars in the heat, so I probably seemed deluded.

Two older men in cowboy hats and boots were talking in back of the truck, but I seemed to be the only customer. Up the street is a new Wendy’s, one of a string of fast-food places where there was a line of cars at the takeout window.

In a few minutes, the teen was back with my order, on a heavy paper plate, carefully wrapped with foil. The small tacos, each in several fresh corn tortillas, were beautiful, plenty of tender meat, adorned only with sprigs of fresh cilantro and chopped onions. The bill was $3.75. I gave him a $5 and told him to keep the rest. (And the tacos, with a little bottled salsa added, were delicious when I ate them later).

Amazed by this, he was even more dumbfounded when I told him that food trucks were the craze on the East Coast. “You’d be a hit in Boston,” I told him, as he walked away, shaking his head at the craziness.

Scallops with corn and creme fraiche potatoes

Opening a restaurant is difficult, and it’s terrifying to throw open the doors and hope that people come. It’s also nervewracking to go for the first time to a restaurant owned by people who you’re rooting for.

So a weekend visit to Local 50 in Kennebunk, Maine, was especially exciting — and gratifying. Merrilee Paul and David Ross, veterans of the Boston scene, opened their first restaurant in the downtown of this Maine hamlet (that is not Kennebunkport of the Bushes). David had been chef at Lucca and Sasso; Merrilee was manager at Great Bay, among other places.

Local 50 melds a cleverly urban look with lots of locavore elements. Even Paul’s grandmother gets into the act. Merrille says Grandma has more of a garden than a farm, but that the corn, greens and other vegetables are wonderful. I can attest to that.

The food was simple, beautifully executed, and delicious, from the scallops to the corn and clam chowder to the chocolate cake. And the place on a Saturday night was rocking — with a lot of locals. Just what you want to see.